He straightened up a bit, angling his hips so his cock hit deeper with every plunge, rubbing right over my g-spot over and over. The friction built, sparks of pleasure shooting through me, making my toes curl against the restraints.

Sweat dripped from his forehead onto my chest, sliding down between my breasts in warm trails. I felt myself getting wetter, my own juices starting to flow, coating his shaft and making the slides smoother, less painful. The wet sounds of our bodies meeting filled the room—slap, slap, slap—mixing with my whimpers and his grunts. Minutes blurred together, time losing meaning as he fucked me hard, switching up his angles...